


One Week's Work

by JackOfNone



Category: Final Fantasy IV
Genre: Community: mount_ordeals, F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-27
Updated: 2009-11-27
Packaged: 2017-10-03 20:28:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackOfNone/pseuds/JackOfNone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edward sings for his supper on his first week at Kaipo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Week's Work

_There's a trick to love songs,_ Ros used to tell him. Edward had never learned her real name (she went by the rather ludicrous stage name of Rosamunda Thorn) but in their short time traveling together, the young minstrel had taught him a great deal about music. Her specialty seemed to be love songs, and she could be very vocal on the subject when she'd gotten into the better part of a jug of wine.

 

_Lord knows you've got the voice, boy, but you'll never get anywhere as a bard if you keep singing all your pieces like you're at a recital in front of the Queen. You see, when someone hears a song about love, they want to imagine it's about them. Especially with that pretty face of yours -- they'll want to look up and imagine you're singing that song just to sweep them off their feet. So do what I do -- just pick a girl out of the crowd, look her straight in the eye, and sing it to her. It can be any girl. Though it helps if she's pretty,_ Ros would usually add, taking another long drink.

 

 

The crowd at Kaipo's only inn was not especially overwhelming. There were about thirty people sitting at the tavern's long tables, talking amongst themselves and paying little heed to the minstrel tuning his harp and humming to himself on the small wooden stage at one end of the room. Despite its modest size, Kaipo sat on the edge of an extremely convenient oasis and probably saw more than its fair share of traveling musicians. The innkeeper had eyed Edward skeptically and ushered him upstairs, telling him there might be a free meal in his future if all went well, but politely suggested that he not hold out hope for much more.

 

 

Edward cleared his throat and strummed a chord. The room's conversation hushed slightly, and a few sun-tanned faces turned to look at him. Edward sighed and, deciding to forgo the usual introductions, launched directly into one of his most popular pieces.

 

 

It was an old song about romance and longing, so as he plucked out the introduction he scanned the crowd, looking for an appropriate subject.

 

 

There, in the corner. There was a young girl there who caught his eye immediately, as she had a striking head of bright red hair -- a prized quality in Damcyan, considered a sign of the Fire Crystal's favor. She had a roll of parchment in front of her and was scratching at it with a quill pen.

 

 

"A scholar's always showing off", Edward began. The crowd's conversation gradually dimmed as he continued his song.

 

"And a lover's always getting lost.

 

A scholar's afraid of drowning, but

 

The whole business of love is to drown in the sea!

 

A scholar plans when he sleeps and awakens

 

But a lover -- oh, a lover cannot rest!"

 

 

As he sang, Edward wondered idly why he had chosen this girl in particular. She didn't even seem to be paying any attention to him.

 

 

Maybe if he sang well enough, he could get her to turn her head. It would be a challenge -- a test of how well he'd learned his lesson about love songs.

 

 

He ran through his repertoire with practiced ease, stopping occasionally to take a request or two from the delighted crowd. Through it all, Edward sang to the girl with red hair, and never once did she look up.

 

 

His performance at Kaipo's tavern was a rousing success -- so much so that the patrons clamored for him to come back tomorrow as he took his bows and slipped upstairs to his room, his harp case filled with coins he really had no need for.

 

 

The next day, as he browsed through the amber bottles and stoneware jars in the apothecary's shop downstairs, he inquired about the girl.

 

 

"Red hair? Oh, you _must_ be new here." The medicine-seller laughed and clapped Edward on the shoulder with one broad, stained hand. "That's Anna. She's the Sage's daughter -- Tellah's his name, originally from Mysidia, I think. She comes in sometimes, usually working on something for her father. Frankly I'm surprised he lets her go out to the tavern at all, what with the close eye he keeps on her otherwise, but she likes to hear when a new singer comes through. Girls her age love poetry, you know -- but I suppose you already knew that, eh?" The shopkeeper laughed again, and Edward shrugged.

 

 

Edward was pleased to note that his audience had nearly doubled in size the next night. Anna was here again, as well -- she was sitting in the same corner, with a heavy book in front of her this time. She flipped through it idly as Edward played, seemingly lost in thought.

 

 

After his performance, the innkeeper knocked on Edward's door to negotiate a week's worth of entertainment in exchange for the cost of meals and a bed. Edward signed the makeshift contract with a false name, and played in the Kaipo inn for five nights running.

 

 

The Sage's daughter hardly ever glanced up to watch him play his music, but she was always there, night after night. And every night he found himself addressing his love songs to the red-haired girl in the corner, wondering if he could coax her into looking up from her books.

 

 

It wasn't until the fifth day that she showed anything but the most passing interest in his singing.

 

 

As usual, Edward ducked out of the tavern as quickly as possible after his performance, to avoid being showered with congratulations. He'd adopted this disguise to avoid notice, after all, and copious attention made him nervous. Instead of heading off immediately to his room, however, Edward ducked out the back door and dropped to the ground, his harp resting in his lap. He snapped a string while tuning the instrument after his show -- an absolutely amateurish accident -- and needed to fix it quickly, before anyone noticed.

 

 

"Something wrong with your harp?" a feminine voice said, behind him. Edward started, and dropped his tuning key. He reached to pick it up, but she was quicker; she knelt down, scooped up the key, and dropped it into Edward's outstretched hand.

 

 

There didn't seem to be any use lying about it. "I...I broke a string," he said, sheepishly. "It's bad luck if I don't fix it right away, and anyway, I should know better." The red-haired girl was kneeling beside him, regarding him with eyes that seemed unusually mischievous.

 

 

"Well, you always run off so quickly -- maybe your harp is trying to tell you to slow down. By the way, I'm --"

 

 

"Anna. I heard." Edward smiled shyly. "You're a bit famous."

 

 

"Because of my father," Anna said with a shrug. "And anyway, it's you who's the talk of the town these days. You're quite the musician, you know."

 

 

"You're too kind. I'm only a beginner, really."

 

 

"And already writing your own compositions, I see."

 

 

Edward concentrated hard on his work for a moment, weaving the string in a careful knot around the pin. "You noticed."

 

 

"I don't know a great deal about music, but I've heard a lot of songs. I didn't recognize your last piece, so I figured it was your work. By the by...it's Edward, right?" He nodded, keeping his eyes on the string. "It's a bit late, and I was wondering if you would be willing walk me home once you're done with your harp."

 

 

"You didn't seem to have any trouble getting home last night -- or the night before that." Despite his concentration, Edward found himself smiling.

 

 

"Indulge me." Edward finished his work with a flourish, laid his harp in its lacquered case, and hopped to his feet.

 

 

"I'd be honored," he said, extending his hand. Anna took it, rose to her feet, and slipped her arm through his.

 

 

She lead him up and down the streets of Kaipo, seemingly in no hurry to get home, and as they walked she prompted him for stories of his travels. She seemed especially interested in the crossing from Damcyan, which Edward had only the most mundane of stories about -- he hadn't exactly walked the entire way -- but she seemed pleased to hear them nonetheless. Perhaps, he thought, she hadn't traveled much.

 

 

"Tell me more about Damcyan," she asked. "I've never been there, but I've heard stories."

 

 

"Well, for one...red hair -- just like yours -- is a mark of royal blood. They say it's from generations spent living in the light of the Fire Crystal." This, at least, was true -- Edward himself had been born with a shock of fiery hair that had softened to gold as he grew older, much to the dismay of his father's more superstitious courtiers. "You aren't a princess by any chance, are you?"

 

 

Anna laughed -- clear as a bell and full of honest joy. "Of course not!"

 

 

"Good -- because, if you must know...I'm a prince." It was surprising to hear those words after so long, but once he said it he felt almost light-headed, as though he had lain down a heavy pack after a hard day of travel.

 

 

"I bet you say that to all the girls," Anna said.

 

 

"No," Edward replied truthfully, twining his fingers with hers. "Just you."


End file.
